7

AUTHOR’S POV

Soft sunlight filtered into the room, resting gently on the curtains and furniture.

The air was calm, carrying the stillness of a freshly awakened morning. Everything felt quiet, as if the room itself was taking a slow, peaceful breath.

Ishani slept like a child, wrapped in quiet elegance. When the warm rays brushed her skin, she stirred, rubbing her eyes slowly. For a second, she sat still on the bed—half awake, half lost—until the bathroom door creaked open.

Atharva stepped out, dressed in a tailored suit, composed and ready to leave.

The moment Ishani’s eyes fell on him, all traces of sleep vanished. Her gaze sharpened, her breath catching in her throat. She quickly turned her head toward the clock.

8:00 a.m.

Questions flooded her mind.

Where is he going so early?

Why does he always wake up early… or is it me who wakes up late?

Before her thoughts could consume her, his voice broke the silence.

“Good morning.”

Her eyes instantly shifted back to him. For a brief moment, they stayed there—on him—quiet, unreadable. After a few seconds, she replied softly,

“Good morning.”

Then, hesitantly, with her eyes lowered, the words slipped out—unexpected, unaware of the weight they carried.

“Where are you going?”

A few seconds passed. Atharva didn’t respond, his back still turned toward her.

She swallowed, already accepting his silence.

Of course, she thought bitterly. This marriage is a responsibility for him, not a choice.

Before those thoughts could gnaw at her further, she abruptly got up from the bed and moved toward the bathroom.

Suddenly, his voice stopped her.

“Wait.”

His voice was firm. “The floor is wet. You’ll hurt yourself again.”

She froze.

“And I’m going to work,” he added, his tone calm, distant.

“Don’t bother your mind too much about me.”

His words were bitter to her ears—expected, yet still sharp enough to sting. She knew they would hurt, but hearing them aloud made it real.

She glanced at him. For a moment, their eyes met—both holding something unsaid, something buried—but neither of them knew what the other was feeling.

Ishani looked away first.

She picked up her phone, moved to the sofa, and sat down quietly.

Without another word, Atharva left the room.

The room returned to silence—heavier now, weighted with things left unsaid.

Does he even realize how small his words make me feel? she thought bitterly.

Atharva walked downstairs and reached the hall. Just as he was about to leave, a familiar voice stopped him.

“Bhai!”

He turned to see Advik coming down the stairs, wearing a mischievous grin.

“What?” Atharva asked, already impatient.

Advik blinked.

“Wow. Just what? No ‘good morning’, no smile—nothing? Rude.”

“Good morning,”

Atharva said flatly.

“Anything else?”

His cold, piercing gaze made it clear he was in no mood for games.

“Wait, bhai,” Advik said quickly, stepping in front of him.

“Why are you always in such a hurry? Running a kingdom or running away from breakfast?”

Atharva shot him a deadly look.

Advik raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Don’t kill me before morning tea.”

Then his grin returned.

“But… I have something for you.”

“What is it?”

Atharva asked, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

Advik pulled out one of his earbuds and waved it teasingly.

“Just trust your little brother for once. Put this on.”

Reluctantly, Atharva placed the earbud in his ear.

Advik played the audio, his smile widening as he waited.

In the recording—

“Are you missing bhai?” Advik’s voice asked playfully.

There was a brief pause, then Ishani’s soft voice replied

“Yes, bhai… I’m missing your bhai. A lot.”

The audio stopped.

Atharva removed the earbud slowly. The sharpness on his face faded, just a little. His eyes softened, and his jaw tightened slightly. His lips pressed together, as if holding back something he refused to acknowledge—even to himself.

Without a word, Atharva turned and walked out of the house.

Advik called after him, sing-song and smug,

“You’re welcome, bhai!”

ISHANI’S POV

After my shower, I draped myself in a simple kurti and applied minimal makeup—nothing too much, just enough to feel neat. As I finished getting ready, I went downstairs to prepare breakfast.

Maa had already told me not to cook every day, but I liked doing it. Cooking made me feel useful—needed—in ways words never could. And everyone liked my food, which gave me a small, quiet happiness.

I entered the kitchen, still unsure of what to make. After a moment of thought, I decided on my favourite—stuffed aloo parathas. I tied my hair properly and got to work, losing myself in the familiar comfort of cooking.

I had just finished when I heard a cheerful voice behind me.

“Bhabhi, good morning!”

I turned to see Advik bhai standing there, a clearly mischievous look on his face.

“Good morning, devar ji,” I replied with a smile.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve made something delicious today,”

he said knowingly. Then, after a dramatic pause, he added,

“And maybe… bhai will even kiss your hand today.”

A playful smile danced on his lips.

I rolled my eyes, already expecting something like this from him. But I wasn’t one to get teased so easily.

“For your kind information, devar ji,” I replied calmly,

“your bhai has already left for the office. So there’s absolutely no chance of all this. Please come out of your delusional world.”

Advik didn’t look bothered at all. Instead, he smiled—a smile that felt… fishy.

“Hmm,” he hummed before walking out of the kitchen.

I ignored his strange smile and asked the maid to place the breakfast on the dining table.

When I reached the dining area, everyone was already seated.

Everyone… except the one person I hadn’t expected to see.

He was there.

Mr. Atharva Yaduvanshi.

My mind immediately filled with questions.

Wasn’t he supposed to go to the office?

Why is he still here?

Didn’t he have an important meeting?

Before I could process anything, Advik bhai spoke again.

“Bhabhi.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. I knew that look. Whenever he smiled like that, it meant he had done—or was about to do—something.

Before I could react, he gently dragged me toward the table where Atharva was sitting.

“Sit here, bhabhi,” he said casually.

Aware of everyone’s eyes on me, I sat down quietly.

Atharva sat beside me, his attention fixed on his phone. His expression was stern, unreadable—as always.

Then maa spoke.

“Atharva, didn’t you say yesterday that you have an important meeting today?”

Atharva looked up at her but didn’t reply.

Before the silence could stretch further, Advik jumped in.

“Yes, maa. Bhai eats breakfast with us once in a while—what’s so special today, bhai?”

Then, with a mischievous grin, he added,

“I think bhai must have listened to a very sweet bhajan this morning. That’s why he decided to stay.”

Before Advik could say anything else, Atharva shot him a dead stare.

Advik instantly zipped his lips—but his grin remained.

Everyone began eating.

I stared at my plate, nervous. I hadn’t touched my food yet. With Atharva eating the parathas, I suddenly felt anxious.

What if he doesn’t like them?

“Bhabhi, don’t worry,” Advik said softly, noticing my hesitation.

“The parathas are very tasty. Bhai surely likes them, right bhai?”

I looked at Advik, my cheeks flushing slightly. My eyes silently asked him—Why are you doing this?

But his mischievous smile only grew wider.

“Bhai, at least say yes or no,” he insisted.

Atharva first looked at Advik… then at me.

“Hm. They are,” he said quietly.

Just one word.

But it was enough.

My breath finally relaxed—I hadn’t even realized I was holding it. A small warmth spread inside me, and I finally began to eat.

As we were eating, maa spoke again.

“Since both of you are here, I want to say something.”

Both Atharva and I looked at her, confused.

“Tomorrow, you both will go to the temple,” maa said firmly.

“It’s important—for peace and blessings.”

“Atharva, whatever meetings you have—schedule them for the next day.”

Her words left a strange silence behind.

For a moment, I thought he would refuse.

But he didn’t.

“Alright, maa,” Atharva said quietly.

My eyes lifted to him in surprise. He didn’t look at me, already back to his food as if nothing had changed.

Breakfast ended soon after.

When Atharva stood to leave, he paused for a brief second. Our eyes

met—quick, unreadable, yet unsettling.

Then he walked away.

I stayed back, my heart restless.

Tomorrow… the temple.

Advik leaned in with a teasing whisper,

“Trust me, bhabhi—tomorrow won’t be boring.”